


A Shot in the Dark

by laurelofthestory



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Gen, Light Angst, Off-screen Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 06:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14278755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelofthestory/pseuds/laurelofthestory
Summary: A chance meeting in the middle of the end, between two people who just want the man they love to be happy again.





	A Shot in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I was sad that I couldn't do anything for the anniversary, and then I realized that I'd written this about a month ago and I could totally pass it off as something for the anniversary!
> 
> In all seriousness though, I love this game so much and I should do more writing for it. It's a bit of a mess, but I hope it's enjoyable--I've had the idea in my head for actual years.
> 
> Also, it is very difficult to write the facial expressions of something that does not have a face.

If you avoided looking out of the castle windows, you could almost make yourself believe it was only a bad thunderstorm.  
You could almost believe the shaking of the ground, growing ever more frequent, was simply caused by particularly bad thunder. That the howling wind was just that, and nothing more. That the darkness was clouds, and that was all. That the storm would pass, and the sun would come out again, leaving only the fresh smell of newly fallen rain on a world being born again.

But it wasn’t a thunderstorm, it wasn’t going to end, and there was no way either of them could forget it; the cold of this place was unnatural, the shaking making it feel as if the whole building was about to collapse on top of them. Though she couldn’t smell it herself, he’d told her it smelled very much like “a blown old fusebox” in here--she wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but could imagine it wasn’t pleasant.

And it would fit with the feel of the air that she knew he couldn’t quite perceive; it was unnatural, shaky, charged, making it difficult for her to stay airborne. 

Or maybe that was just her.

Their next obstacle, and what Tippi suspected would be their final one, was a strange multidimensional maze, half here and half in the Other Dimension. The corridors were full of enemies, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult as the trials they’d endured so far. Really, it was more tedious than anything, with Mario stumbling around searching for whatever exit might be the right one through all the halls that looked exactly the same. 

He’d told her once that staying in the Other Dimension for too long gave him tremendous headaches from the change in perception, and so she wasn’t too surprised when he returned to the proper plane after a while only to slump against the wall next to the doorway he’d just exited, panting quietly as he lifted his hat to run his hand through his hair. Tippi floated down to hover just in front of his face, looking him over.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, and indicated that he only needed a minute. They’d likely been through this hallway before already, as it was clear of enemies, so it was as good a place as any to take a break.

She couldn’t blame him, but she didn’t _want_ to take a break, she didn’t _want_ to wait. Nothing else to pay attention to meant that she had to _think_ , and she didn’t particularly care for her own thoughts at the moment. Thoughts of where they were, what was happening, where they were going...who they’d find at the end. She’d sworn to be resolute when this moment came, but it was altogether overwhelming, and even as she tried to think logically about what they would do once they reached him, it felt as if her own mind was working against her, pushing her away from actually coming up with a solution in favor of whatever distractions she could find.

Old memories. Better days. Better places and better people. She was made of magic and metal, now--she shouldn’t have been able to feel this much pain.

A strange sound like a tiny ringing bell rang through the empty hallway, immediately followed by the scuff of Mario’s boots against the floor as he scrambled to his feet. Tippi was immediately shaken from her thoughts, moving to hover behind Mario as he cautiously approached the nearest opening.

“Did you hear that?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

Mario nodded, peering through the doorway as best as he was able, practically holding his breath. Other than the Void outside, there was no sound in the hallway, only painfully thick silence, and then--

Footsteps. A steady click-click-click against the ground that echoed in the next hall and was coming towards them. Tippi practically bristled as Mario bent his knees to jump if necessary. None of the enemies they’d encountered before sounded like that.

The footsteps slowed, then stopped, and there was a sound like a breath of wind. Both waited by the doorway, tense and wary of whatever would come out.

The sound came again. This time, it was from directly behind them.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Immediately, the two of them whirled around in the direction of the voice, and for a few seconds after that everything was absolute confusion. There was a bright flash of light and the shiver in the air that came from magic and Mario yelped and fell, a blurred figure running for him ( _click-click-click-click_ ) and reaching out to grab him and blowing Tippi aside slightly with the rush of air.

_“Mario, no!”_

Tippi took a moment to right herself, turning around to see Mario on his knees, nearly obscured by a strange nexus of crimson magical light, eyes locked with those of his attacker, teeth gritted, fists clenched tight and trembling. The figure who’d knelt before him was pushing down hard on Mario’s shoulder to keep him from getting up, a pair of tinted glasses clutched in their other hand.

Though Tippi had never seen this woman in person, she immediately recognized her from others’ descriptions, and went rigid in fear and anger.

“No, _no!_ Let him go!”

Without thinking, she flew between them, catching a brief glimpse of the woman’s unnaturally intent gaze before the woman practically smacked her away. Tippi tumbled in the air before coming to rights, stunned, staring at the scene uncertain of how to help the hero in red. She couldn’t do anything, she was small and fragile and she had no combat powers and this wasn’t even a fight she understood well enough to help him win...

Shocked and helpless, she watched the scene play out. After what felt like an age, Mario’s gaze lost its focus. His fists loosened, and his chin dropped to his chest, his whole body seeming to sag slightly.

“No...!”

As the woman stood up, putting her glasses back on, rubbing her temples and muttering irritably to herself (something something _thought the other one was stubborn_ ), Tippi couldn’t help flying a little lower, wings beating a little slower. She tried to get a look at Mario, but his cap had slid down a bit, and what she could see of his face held no expression. At least he was breathing, slow and deep, as if he were sleeping...but given what she knew of the situation, that wasn’t much of a comfort.

Shock gave way to rage, burning through her small form, and she raised herself to eye level with the woman who had turned to face her. Tippi tilted herself forward, wings up, as if trying to look intimidating.

“You... _you_...What did you do to him?!”

Predictably, Nastasia did not seem fazed. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“You--you’re lying! How could you? You’re--”

“Disgusting, amoral, a terrible, evil monster with no respect, a horrifying _freak,_ I should just _die_ \--yeah, I’ve heard it all before. You can give me a moral lecture later, if there is a later.”

Tippi tried to find words, but couldn’t, simply shaking in anger for a few moments. Then, she dived for Nastasia’s face, unsure of what she was actually going to do when she got there, but not really caring.

Nastasia easily ducked out of the way, letting out a frustrated sigh. Tippi righted herself and prepared for another dive--

“Lady Timpani, _please._ ”

\--And she stopped dead, nearly falling. It was difficult to read Nastasia’s expression behind the all-concealing glasses, but there was something like desperation in her voice, in the way she stood. 

All at once, Tippi felt horribly cold.

“...How...”

“That _is_ you, isn’t it?” Her voice had returned to normal, clipped and toneless, though she spoke a little quieter now. “The odds looked pretty good but, um, there’s always a margin of error...”

Tippi was reeling. “...How do...Have we...met?”

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of Nastasia’s lips for only a moment before disappearing. “No. Nice to finally meet you, I guess. He just talks about you a lot--or...he did, before.”

A long moment of silence passed between them. It was dawning on Tippi, now--Peach had said that this woman stayed by the Count’s side at the wedding when none of his other minions had been there, Luigi and Bowser both admitted that she’d seemed very much “in charge” of Bowser’s minions, but they’d never actually seen or fought her. But if she was as high ranking as she acted, maybe...

“...You...you knew him.”

“Yeah, I--yeah.” Nastasia ducked her head a bit, “Two years before this started. He found me while he was looking for you. Not really a fair trade, but hey, he kept me.”

 _Two years._ Was that how long it had been? Guilt gnawed at her soul, but she tried to push it down.

“I, uh...um.” Nastasia suddenly seemed a lot less confident talking to her than she’d been a few moments ago. “I needed to talk to you. Before you got to him. ‘Cause I really...don’t think anything else we can throw at you is gonna stop you from getting to him.” She glanced over at where Mario was kneeling, still caged by light. “Had to be in private. I’m telling the truth--he’s fine, I didn’t do anything to him. He’s just, uh, ‘resting’.”

Tippi bobbed up and down once in acknowledgement. She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like she had any choice in the matter. There was another silence.

“...What happened to him?” No response. Tippi pushed further, _“What’s wrong with Blumiere?”_

Nastasia grabbed one elbow with her other hand, hunching into herself a bit. “...The Dark Prognosticus happened.”

“Why--”

“He thought it’d lead to you, okay? He thought if he _asked nicely_ it might tell him where you were. He was desperate. I tried to tell him not to but he left when I was sleeping and I couldn’t get to him in time. That thing _did_ something to him. Changed him. It changed him and then he--” Nastasia stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath. “...Your world’s gone, Lady Timpani. _This_ is your world. _This_ was the castle he used to live in. Then after wiping everyone there out, he...just decided that he had no choice but to fulfil that prophecy, said the book _chose_ him for it.”

If Tippi could feel sick, she had no doubt she would. _Her world._ Her home world. Her family. Her village. Her friends. _His_ friends. _Everything._ She’d been gone for so long, and now there was nothing left for her to return to. It wasn't fair.

She pushed it aside. “Why did you need to talk to me?”

A moment of hesitation. “I...I think you’re the only one who can talk him down.”

“I thought you were looking forward to your _perfect world.”_ Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended. “All of you! That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Why would you want to--”

 _“There was no perfect world!”_ Nastasia threw her hands into the air, staring up at the ceiling, a half-crazed edge to her voice. “There was never gonna _be_ a perfect world, okay? I don’t know what I would’ve done if it was real, anyway. It was just something we said to keep the others with us and now they’re _gone_ so there’s no point in pretending any longer that this is anything more than _his suicide.”_

This time, Tippi could say nothing as Nastasia caught her breath and fought to regain her composure. When Nastasia did speak again, her voice was low, still mostly monotone, and yet she still sounded utterly defeated.

“I never wanted this, okay? Any of this. I just wanted him to be happy.”

“...Then why are you helping him with this?”

“Because I made a promise a long time ago. My life belongs to him. Lord Blumiere is the _only--_ ” Nastasia stopped herself, shaking her head and letting out a long sigh. “...It’s not like I haven’t tried to talk him out of it, but he keeps saying there’s no way for him to stop this. If there’s anyone who can make him see reason, it’s you. I’ve done everything I can. You’re the only hope left for him.”

Tippi suddenly wished she could disappear into the floor. “So...what do you suggest?”

“The only thing I can. Reel in your _hero_ over there and _talk to him._ Try to talk some sense into him. There might still be a chance. Not a really great one...but still. It’s better than what I’ve got.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

Nastasia straightened, pushing her glasses up her nose so they caught the dark torchlight, her voice suddenly very cold. “I serve _him,_ not you. If you try to hurt him, you’re not gonna have a good time of it. I’ll do whatever I can to help him, and you can bet if I catch your _hero_ again, I’m _not_ just gonna let him off with a warning.”

Tippi again couldn’t find a response. Talk some sense into him...He didn’t seem to have any sense left, and he’d always been horrendously stubborn. She didn’t know if she could manage it, but what else was there to do?

_“Understood?”_

Tippi flinched a bit. “U-understood...”

“Good.” Nastasia turned away, locking her hands behind her back. Her posture deflated again, and her voice fell quiet. “Be careful out there. Something...something isn’t right. Something’s gonna go bad in there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I--I don’t know.”

“How do you--”

“Don’t. Don’t ask me how I know. I just _know._ Something terrible’s gonna happen in there. Trust me.”

Trust was a lot to ask, after everything. But if this was truly someone Blumiere had kept with him...there must’ve been something he saw in her, all that time ago. She may not have been able to trust Nastasia, but at the very least, she could trust _him._

“I understand.”

Nastasia nodded once, then walked back to Mario and knelt beside him again, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Her shoulders slumped.

“Lady Timpani...you really were something special, weren’t you.” A weak, tired hum of a laugh. “He definitely thought so. He loves you. He... _deserves_ you.” There was a bitterness in the word that Tippi believed she understood, and she couldn’t help feeling the slightest tinge of guilt. “If you do manage to get out of this mess...take care of him, okay?”

“I will.”

Again, silence. After a moment, Nastasia stood, vaguely gesturing in Mario’s direction. The light faded away, and Mario crumpled to the ground. Tippi quickly flew down to check on him, looking up just in time to see the strange woman teleporting away.

_Talk some sense into him..._

Mario groaned and raised his head slightly, blinking several times. Tippi flew back a bit so she wouldn’t be right in his face.

“Are you all right?”

He nodded. He was fine, just dizzy. That was a relief--Nastasia had indeed kept her word, at least it seemed so. 

He stumbled to his feet and asked her what had happened. That gave her pause. She’d kept her mouth shut all this time because she just _knew_ that if she told Mario what the stakes really were, he’d likely try to come up with a solution. He’d try to avoid fighting and he’d get himself killed. She’d desperately wanted to confide in him, if only for some comfort, but...

“Nothing. Nothing at all. We should keep going.”

He gave her _that look,_ all curious eyes and furrowed brows, that told her immediately that he didn’t believe her and knew there was something more going on. He’d given her this look many times, but just like all the times before, he did not pry, or even say another word. He simply turned and dusted himself off, before flipping into the Other Dimension to try to figure out the rest of the maze.

Not even following Mario could distract her from her thoughts now. Nastasia gave her the impression of a very put-together woman who had stayed put-together for so long that she was finally starting to break down. It had probably been hard on her. It had been hard on all of them. She suspected they’d all lost quite a bit on this journey. Mario had lost all of his fellow heroes, and his world was probably gone. Blumiere had lost his mind and will. She had lost her life, her body, her family...

 _You didn’t lose them, you left them, you ran away, stupid girl, stupid girl, now they’re gone.._  
.  
Guilt burned in her that she hadn’t felt in years, and yet even so she couldn’t force herself to regret any of it, even with how it had all turned out. Perhaps she should, she mused. But she couldn’t.

This was all up to her, now, and she didn't like it. She--well, this form at least--hadn't been built for this. She remembered waking on Merlon’s table, a mess of metal and magic still trying to figure out the form it wanted to take, and he’d told her that her purpose was simply to relay information to those who asked of it. She wondered what he’d think if he knew about all of this. He’d probably try to fix it, too. Was he still alive? Was Flipside still there? That place had been like her home. She missed it. She wished she could say she was going to be able to keep her promise and return. 

Her purpose was a lot more complicated, now--she had to stop Blumiere, or die trying. The weight of the worlds rested on her wings and she felt she might break.

But even now the memory of their love--the memory of who he used to be, who she used to be, what they’d promised each other all that time ago--burned through even this unnatural darkness, and it gave her hope that maybe the sun really _would_ come out at the end of this storm.

If anything at all was strong enough to endure through this calamity, it was the two of them.


End file.
